


The Completely Exasperating Experience of Falling in Love With Albus Potter

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bromance, Bromance to Romance, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 10:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15861645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: It’s the summer between sixth and seventh year and Albus has declared he’s no longer going to attend NEWT year. It’s fine. Obviously, it’s okay. It doesn’t bother Scorpius at all. Friends are happy for their friends no matter what. So then why does Scorpius feel like he’s losing something much more than a friend at the end of the summer?





	The Completely Exasperating Experience of Falling in Love With Albus Potter

**Author's Note:**

> For Marissa: Thank you for a reason to write this story. Next Gen doesn’t get a lot of love, but I’ve found that it’s a fun era to write because poor Al is hopeless and I love that. I hope you enjoy this!

“That’s not funny, Al.” Rose’s red hair swung over her shoulder just like it always did when she was furious. “Auntie Ginny will murder you when you tell them.”

Al rolled his eyes and dragged his hands doggedly across his stubbled face. “Christ, Rosie. It’s not like I’ve decided to become the next Voldemort.”

“Might as well tell Uncle Harry that, too, because they won’t understand just like Scorpius and I don’t.” Rose pinched the soft flesh underneath Scorpius’s arm and glared at him. “Right, Scorpius?” 

“Er…” Scorpius ducked his head and chanced a glance to his best mate. 

Al’s face was resting against the heels of his palms while his elbows were balancing against his knees. Utterly exhausted by Rose’s constant prattling and threats of what he’d done wrong this time. 

“I don’t know, Rose.” Scorpius shrugged finally. “So Al wants to skip NEWT year? It’s not like he’s very good at NEWT classes. He only got an A in Defense.” 

“Because he doesn’t try hard enough!” Rose’s little fist slammed against the cushion next to her as her face flamed bright red. “Everyone just lets him get away with being ridiculous and lazy and I’ve had enough!”

“Er, Rosie,” Scorpius was quiet and still staring at Al. “Maybe he’ll take a less traditional route. You know, it’s not like he’s skiving off for no reason. He’s traveling and he’s going to learn from wizards in the field.”

Rose scoffed and shoved her still firm fists under her biceps. “Well, I won’t house him when he’s a bum living in Diagon and begging for galleons to rub together.”

“Fuck’s sake, Rose!” Al finally butt in with a heavy breath and agitated growl. The whole compartment jumped at his outburst. “I’m not one of your projects like Scorpius that you need to coddle until I bloom or whatever. I’m bloomed! I’m me! The final version!”

She breathed out sharply through her nose. “Your language leaves an awful lot to be desired. You sound like my dad.”

“Yeah, well,” Al smirked fondly, “Uncle Ron taught me everything he knows.”

“You know, my dad finished  _ his _ seventh year after the war.” Rose tried from another angle and Scorpius was already shaking his head at her attempt. 

“Right. And he became a housemum.”

Rose flung herself at him then with flailing fists. Not aimed to hurt him but to maybe slap some sense into him. Instead, she clipped Scorpius on the side of the head and he grabbed her wrist in his hand. 

“Bloody hell, you lunatic!” Scorpius scowled. “You know how he gets when you keep pushing. Time to back off, Rose.”

“My dad is  _ not _ a housemum! He’s enjoying his time with my Uncle George and-“

“He  _ knows _ , Rosie.” Scorpius leveled a strict gaze at her, trying to communicate without speaking the words out loud. 

“I don’t understand why you defend him,” she scoffed angrily and moved to leave their compartment. “He’s a git.”

“Apparently I’m also a twat and a muppet,” Al said dejectedly as he picked at a rogue string from his jumper. “According to your boyfriend.”

“Yes, well, Zabini thinks you’re a dickhead.” And then she left. 

Scorpius released a breath and mussed his hair a little. “You should have waited to make that announcement until after Rose started patrolling the corridors.”

Albus shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against the crimson cushions. He played with his hair for a minute and watched Scorpius with curious eyes. The thing with Al, Scorpius knew, is that he marches to his own music. He speaks when he wants, even if that means he’s quiet for days. He talks to who he wants, even if that means he once ignored the entire Gryffindor house, including his family, for three weeks. And then there was the previous summer where Al spoke  _ how  _ he wanted to and Scorpius was fairly certain that his father blushed for a solid ninety days. 

Scorpius hesitated to push Al after Rose’s display. So, he waited for Al to make up his mind how he wanted to respond and rested the heel of his shoe on the edge of the compartment bench and then rested his chin upon his knee. He didn’t mind the quiet; Albus was quiet a lot. They both had so much to live up to and sometimes the silence was nice because it meant peace and freedom. 

“I figured she’d understand,” Al finally said and pulled his black hair back as if to band it up. It wasn’t long enough yet, Scorpius made sure of that while Al was sleeping. “She was the one who spent all that time preparing for our OWLs in fifth and I didn’t scrape two. Thought she wouldn’t want to relive the violence. I think I still have a scar on the back of my knee.”

Scorpius tried not to laugh, but failed. “I thought she was going to perform an Unforgivable. It’s lucky Professor Longbottom saved your arse.”

“Bloody women. They wonder why I won’t date them.”

Scorpius swallowed. Albus revealed his sexual preferences a long time ago and it still made something in Scorpius’s gut clench. He never could figure out what it was, so he said nothing. Merlin forbid he’d put his friendship in jeopardy over a strange feeling. 

“As if they’d have you, mate,” he said instead with a forced, crooked grin.

“Right, so.” Al popped off the seat unexpectedly and clapped his hands together. Scorpius watched Al point and plan and pace through the compartment. “First I’ll head to Egypt, yeah? And then I’ll visit you for Hogsmeade weekend. And then I’ll hit Japan. And then I’ll visit you for Hogsmeade weekend. And I’ll cap the year off with Madagascar  and watching your graduation.”

“All of that travel in a school year?” Scorpius was mildly impressed. Al didn’t usually plan his adventures, just sort of hacked it until he either succeeded or died. Hadn’t died yet. “You think your mum and dad’ll fund your trip?”

Albus breathed heavily and popped himself down next to Scorpius and landed his head right on the blond’s shoulder. “Negative.”

“So…” Scorpius tucked his chin and watched Albus press his head further into his shoulder. “You haven’t thought about financing? Not even a little bit?”

“Well, I can apparate.” And that was that. 

Scorpius sighed. “Of course. It’s just, don’t you think, perhaps, you should consider lodging, food, bringing back souvenirs for your best mate?”

“You’d trust  _ me _ to choose appropriate trinkets to bring back for  _ you  _ from other countries?” Albus’ eyebrows rose high onto his forehead, nearly disappearing under his mop of raven hair.

Scorpius swallowed around a very hard nope and nodded. “‘Course I do.”

Albus expelled a heavy breath, eyes still wide and disbelieving. “You’re either the most trusting bloke in all of England or you’re completely mental.”

The boys dissolved into a fit of laughter. Neither willing to admit that Scorpius, best friend of Albus Potter, was most definitely completely mental. 

Scotland was long forgotten after a few hours. The hills disappeared and made way for the fields of England. In no time at all, the train was rushing through villages and inching ever closer to King’s Cross. Several gobstones littered the corners of their compartment, empty sweets packages piled high on their seats, and the boys were all but sleeping as the Trolly Witch passed by and alerted them that they’d be arriving to their destination in a quarter hour. 

As they began cleaning up their compartment, only being spied on by Rose once, Scorpius tried to broach the subject of Al’s leaving again. He’d had so many summer plans with his best friend and now the prospect of having to remain at home under his dad’s watchful and overprotective eye just didn’t sound like the best use of a holiday. But, he also knew that accompanying Al was out of the question. His father would  _ murder him _ if he tried to skive off seventh year, and as the Heir Apparent to the Malfoy name, Scorpius was expected to behave in a manner that befit his social expectations. 

Or, as his father put it: attend the bonding ceremony of the Lupin boy and a Weasley, because it wasn’t enough that Muggleborns are acceptable wizards, but apparently so are Weasleys now.

Instead of easing gently into the conversation as intended, Scorpius blurted the first sensical words that entered his head. 

“Come to Teddy’s wedding with me.” 

Albus turned slowly from stuffing empty wrappers into his trunk and raised an eyebrow. Scorpius put a hand through his blonde hair and let out a nervous chuckle. 

“ _ I mean,  _ your parents will kill you if you miss Teddy and Victoire’s wedding.”

Al made a noise and rolled his eyes. “They don’t care if I’m there. The last time I saw Vic, I likened her to an erumpant with far less grace.”

“You stole her bra,” Scorpius reminded him while leveling, what he hoped was, a stern glare. 

Al laughed. “I was curious.”

“You had your mum’s heels on.”

“Exactly!” Albus thrust out his hand as if Scorpius  _ finally _ understood. “She charged me. And then she fell down the stairs.”

“ _ Because you moved out of the way!”  _ Scorpius exclaimed. How many times did they have to argue about the time Albus let Vic fall down the stairs? Honestly, he was just amazed that Al didn’t toss her down. 

Albus pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Look. Scorp, buddy. When you have a Half-Weasley, Half-Delacour  _ charging you like a centaur _ , you get out of the bloody way.”

It was Scorpius’s turn to make a noise as he flung himself down on the seat and dropped his head to his knees. Albus was the most stubborn, pigheaded person he’d ever known. And, as it were, the only person that Scorpius could argue against in agreement with a Weasley. Merlin, how often he’d agreed with Rose was the reason his dad thought he’d been courting the girl for two years. 

“Just… don’t go until summer’s over,” he said finally, lifting his head. “You can go to the Arctic after the wedding for all I care”

It was painful, knowing that Albus was leaving. It’d be more painful if he didn’t have an entire summer to say goodbye. 

“Alright.” Al sat down beside him and clapped him on the shoulder. “But, if Vic takes her bridal aggressions out on me, I’ll let her fall down the stairs again.”

Scorpius chuckled and his face lit up with a brilliant smile. “Deal.”

  
  
  


Scorpius was determined to make the most out of summer holidays. He’d drawn up a list of all the things he wanted to do with Al before the wedding. Even Rose was impressed at his planning skills. That should have terrified him, of course, but instead he was a blushing, bumbling mess, because Al wouldn’t stop taking the mick at every turn. 

During the first week of summer hols, Scorpius invited his friends over for a friendly Quidditch match. Three versus three on the Malfoy grounds. Rose, Roxanne, and Lucy versus Scorpius, Albus, and James. Al said it wasn’t fair to split them into houses since only two of them had enough sense to join Slytherin. Earned him a punch in the arm from his older brother, but Scorpius couldn’t help but share a conspiratorial smirk with him anyway. 

Since Scorpius’s father locked away the bludgers - something he’d been religious about ever since Al knocked Scorpius unconscious during a friendly in fourth year - each side were playing with one keeper, one chaser, and a seeker. Scorpius preferred keeping, James was a natural seeker like his father, and that left Albus chasing. Albus  _ hated  _ chasing. He spent a lot of time seeking and being shouted at by James to  _ pay bloody attention to the quaffle, you muppet.  _

“You know,” Rose shouted at the boys from high above the lush green Malfoy grounds, “even if one of your seekers find the snitch, we’ll still win because Roxy is kicking Al’s arse at chasing.” 

Strictly speaking, Albus wasn’t a Quidditch player. He played for fun and Scorpius imagined that he only played because it was something Scorpius enjoyed as a member of the Slytherin team. But, Al wasn’t built for it, didn’t abide the rules, and only seemed mildly interested when knocking bludgers after the snitch. Generally frowned upon in both houses of Malfoy  _ and _ Potter. 

So, everyone stilled in shock as Albus caught the quaffle, stuffed it under his arm, and took off like a dart toward the transfigured hoops. The only problem was, Albus was heading straight for Scorpius. 

The girls were cheering him on while James and Scorpius tried to make him turn around. 

“Alb-”

“Potter!”

Scorpius frantically flailed his hands above his head while gripping his broom tightly with his thighs. Albus didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything, he was a blur as he sped toward Scorpius. 

The sickening crunch and subsequent blood curdling screams from the girls filled Scorpius’s cotton-filled ears. While he maintained a death grip on his Nimbus, Al’s practice broom crumbled to bits under his body. Scorpius tried to reach for him, tried to dive down and catch him before he hit the ground. It was useless. 

Al lay on the ground with his arms and legs in awkward angles around his body. Twigs and grass stuck out of his hair. As Scorpius and the others ran over to his still body, panic flooded the Malfoy boy like he’d never known before. He should have, he could have, he would have… 

“Albus,” James tried to rouse his brother without touching him. “Albus Severus Riddikulus Rancorous Obnoxious Potter.”

Scorpius heard James use this tactic before. Al’s name was a bit of a running joke at Hogwarts and so whenever the brothers were fighting and Al was pretending not to realize James existed, James would goad him into speaking by making his name more and more ridiculous until Al finally cracked and yelled at him to quit being a git. 

Clearly that tactic wouldn’t work this time. 

Scorpius kneeled at Al’s side and placed his head to his friend’s chest. There was a heartbeat. Steady and strong. Instant relief flooded him and he looked up at James, nodding sharply. 

“Augmenti.” Rose aimed her wand over Al’s face as a stream of water poured from the tip.

Al’s eyes shot open but before he could move and hurt himself further, three voices shouted, “petrificus totalus!”

“Well, he may never walk again.” The deep, gravelly voice sent chills down Scorpius’s spine. His dad was home. Shite. “Three separate spells all hitting him at the same time? He’ll be lucky to be pried off the grounds at this point.”

“Dad-”

“Mr. Malfoy-”

“We didn’t-”

As four teenagers began to explain what happened to Mr. Malfoy, it was Scorpius who remained quietly by his side with his hand wrapped carefully around Al’s hand. He’d never been so fucking scared in all his life. It happened so quick and no matter how he played it back in his head, there was nothing he could have done. That, in itself, was the most terrifying revelation. Albus could have died, right there at his house, and nothing Scorpius could have done would have stopped it. 

And he was supposed to be okay with this same wizard ducking out and away to Merlin-knew-where to study Salazar-knew-what with no plan and no money and no life skills whatsoever? 

Scorpius felt sick. His stomach roiled and he moved his face to the side and puked.

All over his father’s shoes. 

Bugger. 

“Scorpius, I need you to floo St. Mungo’s and alert them that I will be on my way shortly with one of the Potter children.” His dad helped him off the ground and used his wand to vanish the sick. “I want you to get the Granger-Weasley and her cousins back to wherever they come from - safely. Alert Mr. and Mrs. Potter about the incident and then you can meet me at hospital.”

Scorpius felt tears at the corners of his eyes. “Can’t James…”

“No. I need James to help me levitate Albus to the floo. Yes,” he cut Scorpius off before the boy could argue, “it  _ has to be _ James. Go now.”

Scorpius saw the worry behind his father’s eyes and shoved down every teenaged instinct he had to argue. He corralled the girls together and led them into the manor and straight to the floo. None of them spoke through the entire trip until they were throwing floo powder into the large grate. 

“Should I tell mum?” Rose said as she stepped in behind Roxy and Lucy. “I just, Merlin, Scorpius, I’m so scared for Al.”

Scorpius breathed sharply through his nose and nodded. He was bloody terrified. “Give me a bit to make sure Harry and Ginny know first, yeah? I don’t want them to hear it from your parents.”

Rose’s eyes were dripping as she ducked her chin and threw powder down into the fireplace. “Granger-Weasley Cottage.”

When she was gone, Scorpius dropped to his knees and sniffed back the tears he’d been holding onto. He tossed in a handful of powder and called out to St. Mungo’s. The mediwitch who answered smiled broadly at him.

“Hello, dear, and thank you for floo-ing St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Please hang up and floo the Ministry if-”

Scorpius closed his eyes tight as the witch listed a series of Magical Law Enforcement related incidents. He steadied his breathing and chewed on his lip. This was going to kill him! 

“Finally, my dear, how may I assist you this afternoon?” Her smile was toothy and wide and not at all calming to Scorpius’ nerves. 

“My friend was in an accident. He’s badly hurt.” It all came out in one breath. He drew in another and let it go just as quickly as the first. “My Dad is bringing him through soon and we need a healer ready. He’s… he’s…”

The mediwitch tilted her head, sympathy shining from her eyes. “Is he already dead, dear? If so, you’ll need to contact the Ministry-”

“He’s not dead!” Scorpius rarely shouted but he couldn’t stop the way the words tore from his throat. “He’s badly injured. Broken bones and, and, too many petrifying spells all at once. Please, please just be ready for him.”

He ended the floo before she could say anything else. His eyes were burning and if anyone asked he’d swear that it was soot and ash from the fireplace. It was a lie. Anytime Al’s body on the grounds entered his mind, tears threatened to spill. 

Before he could linger on the feeling for too long, Scorpius palmed another shot of floo powder and tossed it inside the fireplace. This time, he stepped in after it. 

Potter Cottage was in front of him within seconds and Scorpius wasted no time entering their house and shouting for an adult. 

“Harry!” He stepped through the living room and dashed into the kitchen. “Ginny? Where the hell are you? Harry!”

As he rounded the corner, he came face to face with Al’s father. Harry put his hand on Scorpius’s shoulder and furrowed his brow.

“Scorpius, what is it? Where are Albus and James?” Harry glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to find them there. His brow drew closer together when he found no one.

Scorpius sucked in a breath. “There’s- there’s been an accident.”

Harry startled and his fingers dug into Scorpius’ shoulder. “Speak quickly.”

Scorpius managed to say ‘quidditch’, ‘quaffle’, and ‘falling’. 

“Where is he, Scorpius?” Harry’s voice was smooth, gentle. It should have unnerved Scorpius, but instead it had a calming effect. 

“My dad and James are taking him to St. Mungo’s. I-”

“Hey,” Harry’s sharp tone cut him off. “It sounds like an accident. Right now, there’s no time to assign blame. I need you to come with me and be there for Albus.”

Scorpius nodded. His hands were shaking as Harry led him to the floo and called for the hospital before throwing the powder in. When they saw each other next, it was on a very busy floor at the hospital. Several healers surrounded a cot. It wasn’t until Scorpius saw a head of blonde next to the unruly mess of Potter hair that panic really set in. 

He started forward, but a strong hand held him back. “There’s nothing you can do that the healers can’t. Go gather your wits, Scorpius. I’ll have your father find you when Al can have visitors.”

His heart broke then and there. Harry took off to the cot where his son was lying motionless. His father and James were speaking to the healers so quickly that Scorpius couldn’t make out a word. He felt helpless. And responsible. If he hadn’t insisted on quidditch at his manor, then Al wouldn’t have ended up at hospital. He finally couldn’t stop his emotions any longer, and so Scorpius fled to the lifts and hid in the cafeteria until his father found him hours later. 

“Al-”

“He’ll live,” his father said as he set a small cup of coffee down in front of him. “He broke two ribs and his arm, and he has a concussion. But, he’ll live and he has your friends to thank.”

“But the spells-”

“Kept him from moving. He was one movement away from damaging his spine.” 

Scorpius brought the hot coffee to his lips and chugged it down rather than say anything else. He wanted to blame himself, he wanted to curse, he wanted to tell  _ someone _ what losing Al would do to him. But he drank his coffee instead, eyes trained on the bottom of the cup to avoid looking at his father. 

“The Potters are with him now.” His father reached across and gently pried the cardboard cup from Scorpius’’ fingers. “They say you’re welcome to visit Albus, but he’s been under a Calming Draught.”

Scorpius swallowed around an extremely dry lump in his throat. 

“He’ll be okay, Scorpius.” He stood and watched his son while putting his free hand into the pocket of his trousers. When Scorpius glanced up, he was surprised to see a small, rare smile on his father’s lips. “The Potters have a history of surviving things no one should survive.”

Scorpius took several moments to collect his thoughts and calm his nerves. It was normal to worry over a hurt friend. It was normal to shed tears when you’re afraid for a friend’s life. He kept repeating these words to himself as he left the cafeteria and made his way to Al’s room. He only stopped for directions twice and when he approached the room, his father was standing outside speaking to Mrs. Granger-Weasley. 

Hermione gave his father a severe glance and then wrapped Scorpius in a tight hug around the shoulders. “Thank you for ensuring that Rosie made it home safely, Scorpius. I’m so happy that she has you.”

He basked in her embrace. Hermione was like a surrogate mother to him these days, in the same way that Harry was like a second father. It was amazing to have such strong family ties with these people, especially when his father divulged the history that Malfoys had in the Wizarding World. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled into her jumper. Her grip was getting tighter and his dad chuckled beside him.

“Let’s not smother the poor boy, Hermione,” he said as he pulled Scorpius out of her grip. “I don’t want you staying here all night, okay? Come home and rest and then you can visit Albus tomorrow.”

“I’ll be home at midnight.” Scorpius knew his curfew was half ten, but thought under the circumstances he’d be allowed later.

His father shook his head. “Eleven.”

“Midnight.” 

“Half eleven.”

Hermione snorted in the background. “If this is how Malfoys negotiate, I’m surprised your family is so wealthy.”

“Bugger off, Granger-Weasley.”

Scorpius hardened his gaze and lifted his chin towards his dad. “Midnight.”

His father rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Midnight. But if you’re a moment late, I’ll send Armand Malfoy’s painting after you.”

Scorpius stiffened and nodded. Armand was a warlord; the first Malfoy in Britain. And a maniac. He died with a sword in one hand and a severed head in the other. 

His father bid him goodnight and walked with Hermione down the hall to the lifts. When they were out of sight, Scorpius entered Albus’ room quietly and approached the Potters with caution. The only noise was Albus snoring, which might as well have been a Hungarian Horntail. Pulling up a chair to his bedside, Scorpius planted himself right next to his friend’s head. 

“Why the hell were you coming at  _ me _ with the quaffle, you great idiot.” Scorpius sighed and stared down at his still friend. A nervous chuckle escaped him. “Hopeless, you are.”

To his right, Albus’s mum snorted and thrust the back of her hand to her mouth to smother the noise. 

“James said it was Battle of the Sexes,” Harry said, clearly confused and glanced at Scorpius with a curious side eye. “Why  _ did  _ he come after you with the quaffle?”

“Oh, my boy.” Ginny shook her head. “He never did understand quidditch.”

“But how do you score in the wrong hoop?” Harry demanded quietly around a laugh. 

“When you were seventeen, you were chasing horcruxes and Dark Lords.” Ginny smiled at her husband and pushed his dark fringe away from his face, revealing the famous lightning bolt scar. “Our Albus is more of a free spirit. Like Luna.”

“He’s wicked at quidditch commentating,” Scorpius interrupted with a laugh that hinted at an inside joke. “Pretty sure he has absolutely no clue how the game works. Once called the snitch when a game between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor was 140 to 0, in favor of Ravenclaw. Snitch hadn’t been caught yet. McGonagall went mad and called him a cur for exciting her over someone on Gryffindor catching the quaffle.”

Scorpius joined the Potters laughing and smiled down at his very best friend. He was always goofy like that, unconventional, special. It made Scorpius’s heart clench. He cared for Albus so much it hurt. 

“We’ll give you some time with him,” Ginny told him as she stood and dragged Harry along with her. “Thank you for coming for Harry and I. We’re so very glad that Albus has you.”

Scorpius felt the flush on his face and offered Ginny a small smirk. When she left the room, he glared down at Albus and hissed at him. 

“You could have died and then where would I be?” He grabbed Albus’s hand and squeezed it tight. “How do you expect me to let you go gallivanting around the world when you can’t even ride a broom properly? You’ll die in a cave somewhere because you’ll have no one to look out for you.”

Fingers squeezed his and Scorpius jumped. Narrow, hazel eyes looked up at him as Albus’s lips parted. 

“Can’t give a dying bloke a break?” 

“You cheeky-” Scorpius grinned and felt himself come alive at hearing Albus speak. “You have a break. Three, if I remember correctly.”

“And a concussion.”

“Yes, Potter. And a concussion.” Scorpius pulled his hand away, and wondered why it felt so empty and cold without Al’s wrapped inside it. “If you think I’m going to let you go traipsing off to Egypt and Madagascar and Japan all on your own…”

Albus pushed himself up and winced. Scorpius surged forward and placed his hands on Al’s shoulders to hold him in place. “Stay still, you muppet.”

“Does this mean you’ll come with me?” Albus smiled that stupid Potter grin. 

Scorpius hesitated. He thought about watching Al leave, all alone. He thought of all the horrendous accidents that Al could get himself into. A part of him thought, maybe, the experience would be good for Al. But then there was a large part of him that shouted at him to go. Find out what they were without Potters and Weasleys and Granger-Weasleys and Malfoys around. 

Before he could stop himself, his hand was wrapped around Al’s again and he smiled down at his friend. 

“Promise me that we’ll go to the wedding, that we’ll finish seventh year, and yeah, I guess I could keep you company for a travel year.”

Albus’ entire being lit up as he grinned. “Told you I’d sort out the finances.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

Albus shrugged. “It’s part of my charm.”

“You’re also ridiculous.”

“Quirky.”

“Insufferable,” Scorpius said softly. 

“Noble.” Al raised a challenging brow. 

“Exasperating.” He was leaning over Al. Hovering, as if waiting for something and he wasn’t sure what.

“Pleasant.”

“Git.” He smirked. 

“Handsome.” Al smirked back. 

Scorpius pressed his lips into Al’s and mumbled, “shut up.”

And, for once, Al had no snarky reply. 


End file.
